The Ingram-Lewis Chronicles Pt. 04

Mr Godber expressed himself very satisfied with the punishments Patrick had just administered: "I am very pleased that you have been able so quickly to make use of Mr. Patterson's latest handiwork. From what you tell me, it appears that the latest birches are a great improvement on the older models. Do do keep up the good work. I should tell you Ingram-Lewis that at tomorrow's assembly I intend to announce to the boys that certain misdeeds will carry a mandatory birching, as I want the birch to be seen as a regular feature of life at Rigby. So, smoking and concealing cigarettes, stealing from anyone, illicit consumption of alcohol and gross moral turpitude (he could not bring himself to say "buggery") will incur a mandatory birching. In that way the boys will know exactly where they stand. Of course, Ingram-Lewis, this should not preclude the possibility of your birching a boy for other offences if you deem it necessary. I shall, of course leave that to your discretion in which I have the upmost confidence. Now, Patrick..."

So Patrick did what had become his weekly duty by the Headmaster and then retired to bed, with a certain satisfaction as he reviewed his recent activities, He thought to himself that the affair of the illicit cigarettes had been brought to a complete and satisfactory conclusion; but he could not have be more wrong, as the next week revealed.

CHAPTER 7

It was the middle of the following week that Patrick found a note pushed under the door of his study. It said, in a juvenile hand: "You did not get all the cigarette smokers last week. David Foster did not own up. He still has some cigarettes hidden." The note was unsigned but had obviously been written by one of Foster's classmates who, for some reason, bore him a grudge. Patrick felt a wave of repulsion course through his veins as he read the anonymous message. As a gentleman he totally disapproved of any boy who was sufficiently mean-spirited as to inform on one of his classmates. In Patrick's book a gentlemen owned up to his faults and accepted the consequences. But that was, even then, a utopic and idealised view, shared by but a few. The anonymous writer clearly did not belong to this group. But his disgust was even greater as the perpetrator had not had the courage to sign his name. The boy in question was one of that unspeakable class: the tale-tellers: boys who would inform on their classmates behind their backs. In short he was was, to use a more vulgar expression, a snitch.

That same evening around nine, Patrick selected his favourite cane and went up to the dormitory. He opened the door to find the twelve occupants preparing to go to bed. Some were already in bed; others were in various states of undress, but the general chatter, which had until then filled the dormitory, stopped dead as Patrick entered. The cane in his hand said everything to the boys: the Head Boy was clearly on the war path. Patrick surveyed the scene and the state of uneasiness that his entrance had created; the fear was palpable; the silence was deafening.

"Gentlemen, a few nights ago, after catching two boys of this dormitory smoking, I gave you all of you who were concealing illicit cigarettes a chance to step forward and admit your guilt. In addition to the two smokers, four of you stepped forward, tipped up your cigarettes and all six delinquents were thrashed here in the dorm. Tomlinson and Newton were then, at a later date, birched by me in the punishment room as their offences were deemed worthy of a more severe dose of punishment. Now you all heard the Headmaster's statement at Monday's assembly, when he announced certain offences for which the birch was a mandatory punishment. I am telling you all this today by way of a reminder as to what happens to boys in this school who conceal cigarettes or smoke them. Make no mistake any of you, if you are in possession of cigarettes or you are caught smoking, then you will be birched. There will be no ifs and buts; you will mount the Rigby Horse and your naked arses will be soundly flogged with the birch. I hope that that is now clear to all of you,"

"Now, it has come to my notice that one boy, whose name I already know, is also still hiding illicit cigarettes. But he chose not step forward the other evening when he had the chance. I do not know the reason why, but four of you did own up and were punished for your misdeed, but this boy chose not to do so. So, I now invite him, and I stress I already know his identity, to step forward now and hand over the cigarettes he has been hiding. If this boy now chooses not to do this; not to acknowledge guilt, then I shall name him and believe me, the punishment he will receive will be much more severe. So, I suggest to this boy that he now step forward within the next fifteen seconds and accept the consequences of his actions."

The tension was so great that the air seemed thick and almost un-breathable when, after a very brief pause, David Foster finally stepped forward and handed Patrick an unopened packet of cigarettes. You could almost hear the release of the tension that Foster's admission brought with it. Foster stood there, his head hanging in shame as he realised that in the eyes of his classmates he had been an utter coward in not stepping forward previously with the others.

"So, Foster, why did you not step forward the other evening with the rest of your classmates and accept the punishment which you all knew would undoubtedly follow? Come on boy; let's be having an explanation, for you now find yourself in a worse position: a much worse position to say the very least."

"Ingram-Lewis sir, I was so scared of being beaten that I did not step forward, although I do know I should have. You see, sir, I have never ever been beaten and I have a terrible fear of what it might be like, so you now see why I kept quiet. I realise now that I should have stepped forward with the others and taken my punishment like a gentleman, and that I am now seen as sort of a coward by the others. But I was just so very frighten that I did not speak up. I am very sorry indeed, for I now see the mess I am in, all due to my own stupidity. So, Ingram-Lewis sir, if I have now got to be punished, then I am ready to take it. And I am truly sorry for my previous silence; truly I am sir."

He stood there with his head hanging in shame. He had now realised that he was going to be thrashed, and probably thrashed harder than had he owned up with the others; and additionally he had the disdain of his classmates to bear. All in all he had created a heavy burden for himself to bear.

"You mean to tell me, Foster, that you have never been been beaten here at Rigby; never ever touched by the cane. And before that, for god knows how many years at prep. school, you were never beaten there either. My god, Foster, you must have been an angelic boy all this time. But let me just tell you that today, all that will change and your backside will feel the cane in a few moments as you pay for your disregard of the school rules. Yes, Foster, your arse will lose its virginity to the cane and it will be a salutary experience for you. And Foster, to anticipate your question; yes it will hurt as that's what it is supposed to do."

"Now, before we go any further, I have here in my hand an anonymous note, in which the writer denounced his classmate, Foster. Now I totally disapprove of tale-telling, even though in this case it has led to the exposure of our friend Foster. But I totally abhor the fact that he who wrote this note did not have the courage to sign it. This is totally underhand and cowardly and is certainly not the sort of behaviour we expect here at Rigby. I do not have to remind you that at this school, we all behave as gentlemen. Now I also know the name of the boy who wrote this note (but here Patrick was bluffing) as I have identified him from his handwriting. And so, I am giving him the same option as that I just gave to Foster: he has fifteen seconds to step forward in front of his classmates after which, if he has not revealed himself to us, I shall name him and woe betide him if I have to take that step."

A deathly hush again fell upon the dormitory and after a few seconds another boy, Peter Selwyn, stepped forward. Selwyn was perhaps the biggest boy of his year. He had the build of a budding rugby player and Patrick, as ever focussed on a lad's anatomical endowments, noted that he had a large, meaty and well rounded backside: a beautiful pair of buns, which were just crying out for a good dose of the cane. "Selwyn, what on earth possessed you to write this anonymous note denouncing one of your classmates?True, as we have seen, he was hiding cigarettes and had not owned up to the fact and so I as Head Boy was obliged to investigate the matter. But, frankly Selwyn, your actions are not those of a Rigbyan, or of any public school boy, here or elsewhere. What on earth had you yourself to gain from exposing Foster? Nothing at all as far as I can see."

"We simply do not act as snitches, to use a vulgar word for your actions; it simply is not done. It would have been bad enough had you signed the note but by choosing not to to append your name to your missive, you made matters infinitely worse. Selwyn, your actions are those of a person of no backbone: none at all and they leave me totally cold. Heaven only knows what your classmates think of you. You have surely forfeited any trust they might previously have had in you. Frankly Selwyn, I should not be at all surprised if you were sent to Coventry. You should hang your head in shame for your actions."

Whilst he had been berating Selwyn, Patrick had become aware of a faint whispering going on among the other boys as they listened to what was being said. Finally, a voice piped up: "I think Selwyn has something he wants to tell you, Ingram-Lewis sir."

Patrick looked questioningly at Selwyn, who remained resolutely silent, his eyes focussed downwards onto his feet. "Well, Selwyn, it seems your classmates think that you have something else to impart to me; come on boy, out with it; what is it I should know?" Still Selwyn remained sullenly silent.

Then a small chorus from his classmates: "Come on Selwyn; tell Ingram-Lewis your secret. If you don't, then we shall!"

"Selwyn it is becoming increasingly clear that you are hiding something which your classmates think I need to know: Come on boy; out with it; for the last time, what is it I need to know?"

Selwyn seemed to have lost the power of speech completely and continued surveying his feet. After a longish pause during which the other boys whispered together, a spokesman had clearly been selected: "Ingram-Lewis sir, Selwyn himself has some cigarettes in his bedside cabinet. We all know it and he knows it too and we all think that he is an utter rat, splitting on Foster like that, when he has some fags hidden away himself. He's a real case of the kettle calling the pot black sir. That's what Selwyn does not want to tell you sir. So now you know sir."

"Selwyn, is this true what your classmates tell me? Do you have some cigarettes hidden away? Come on boy, I will know the truth."

Selwyn was by now trembling with fear, as he realised what an incredible mess he had created for himself; he had not had the courage to declare his hidden cigarettes, even when he knew that his classmate were gunning for him.. "Ingram-Lewis sir, I've only got a few fags, really I have; I had not intended to smoke them: really I didn't sir; and that's why I did not think I needed to mention them. I was just doing what I thought was the best: really I was sir."

"That, Selwyn, is a feeble excuse. Go and fetch your cigarettes and let me see how many you have." Selwyn's face now went deathly white as he fetched a packet from his locker and handed it over to Patrick. "Selwyn, your "few" cigarettes seem to be fifteen in number. That's fifteen which, according to you, you did not intend to smoke, So, Selwyn, let's be knowing what happened to the five which have gone. Did they disappear without having been smoked? Selwyn, I have had enough of this nonsense. You have shown yourself in the worst possible light. You denounce one of your classmates whilst you yourself are guilty of the very act which you accused him of. You, Selwyn are beneath contempt and I do not know how you will hold up your head in future among your classmates. One thing is, however certain; you will shortly hold up your naked arse for me to beat"

"Now, all you boys except Foster and Selwyn get into bed and keep quiet. Foster, Selwyn, drop your pyjama bottoms and bend across the foot of your beds" And after that ominous instruction, Patrick then gave the cane a quick swish through the air and approached Foster's naked arse. He was now acutely aware that he was about to venture with the cane onto virgin territory and he wanted to be sure that Foster's first taste of the rod was truly salutary. So he tapped a few times across the middle of Foster's two well rounded buns before bringing down his cane with huge force on the boy's naked flesh.

Foster drew a huge audible inward breath and braced himself for the next stroke. Patrick continued and gave the boy five more powerful cuts, spacing them across the upper part of Foster's buttocks. He then told Foster to remain where was. To his credit, the timorous Foster, had managed to hold out so far and had made little sound other than a few moans. But to his credit he was taking his first encounter with the cane very well. Patrick surveying his handiwork so far, in the form of six bright red, angry furrows across Foster's arse, secretly admired the boy's composure. "He has come to terms with his misdeeds and is now taking his punishment as a true gentleman." thought Patrick to himself as he prepared to address Selwyn's arse.

As he turned his attention to the odious Selwyn who was trembling with fear of what he was about to receive, Patrick surveyed the large muscular pair of buttocks, which as he had previously thought were just asking to be thrashed, He gave Selwyn six tremendously hard whacks with the cane, by which time Selwyn had already become tearful and let out howls of as each successive stroke landed on his backside.

Patrick then transferred his attention back to Foster's waiting arse and completed his beating with six well placed strokes on the lower regions, essentially on the very sensitive sitting area. When he had finished he tapped Foster's arse with the cane and said: "Right Foster, up you get and into bed; that's your lot for today, but I am not finished with you yet."

He then returned to Selwyn, where he treated his arse to another twelve hard cuts, some eighteen strokes in all, by which time Selwyn was reduced to a tearful moaning mess. Finally told to get into bed, Selwyn looked a picture of abject misery. But Patrick had not yet finished with the two lads, for he had no intention of letting them off the hook with a simple caning, hard though it had been. "Foster, Selwyn, you will both kindly note that I wish to see you both, wearing only your gym strips, in my study next Sunday afternoon at three o'clock precisely, when I shall have the doubtful pleasure of completing your punishment. By that time I think that both your arses will be in need of a further dose of percussive therapy to set you both on the right road to recovery."

"Oh come on, Ingram-Lewis sir, have a heart," moaned Selwyn from the depths of his agony, "You have just flogged us half to death and you still intend to give us more"

"Believe me, Selwyn, I do have a heart but let me tell you that when I look and listen to you and see your two-faced attitude to your classmate, it beats like solid stone. And so, next Sunday I shall expect you in my study at three o'clock precisely. Don't bother with any underwear, by the way; just wear your gym strips; it makes for easier access to your arses. Believe me when I tell you that you that you still have a lot to look forward ot on Sunday, I trust have made myself clear."

As he was about to leave the dormitory, Foster said: "I just wanted to say, Ingram-Lewis sir, that I know I should have come forward at the start and my classmates told me later that I was letting the side down by what I had done; not playing the game and all that. I know now that I should have been thrashed at the start with the others, They all urged me just to tell you and take the consequences which is what I was about to do as I did not want to be shunned by everyone, Then matters were taken from me with that that rotten trick which Selwyn pulled. Anyway, sir, I just wanted tell you; that's all. You know, sir, I'm hellish sore at the moment and you really do know how to wield the cane and I know that on Sunday you are going to birch me; but I don't care: I feel so very much better."

Patrick said to him: "Well Foster, you have accepted your fate very well so far. I am afraid that on Sunday, as you say, I am going to birch Selwyn and you as I did Tomlinson and Newton. You will recall that Headmaster has made the birch mandatory for cigarette and smoking offences. But you will survive, Foster and, more importantly, I reckon you will be accepted by your classmates. In spite of not coming forward the other day, they all know that you had the intention of admitting your misdeeds. They all watched you this evening take a severe caning without complaint. Believe me when I say that they admire you for that. And, most importantly they all know how badly treated you were by Selwyn, with his malicious revelations."

"You know, Foster, in my earlier days, I was thrashed regularly but birched by old Godber just once, which made me see the light. It was a painful period in my life. But I don't see that it did me any harm at all; so much so that here I am in my final year at Rigby as Head Boy. I regret to say I am less optimistic about the prognosis for Selwyn. He has a lot to answer for to his classmates if he is ever to regain their respect." And with that, Patrick left the dormitory and its occupants to chew over, as they surely would, the dramatic events they had all just witnessed. Patrick felt fairly confident that Foster would be hailed as a hero by his classmates and would be able to bare his battered backside with pride in front of them. After the forthcoming Sunday birching, it would be a sight to behold.

The Sunday afternoon arrived and the two boys duly presented themselves at Patrick's study. Patrick had not told Selwyn what was to happen to him but on being informed that he was to be birched, Selwyn promptly kicked up a fuss. "Selwyn, had you listened to the Headmaster at the assembly on Monday you would be aware that your offence, concealing cigarettes, carries a mandatory birching. I have also to tell you that in your case, in view of your utterly appalling behaviour, I shall have pleasure in giving your backside a very thorough roasting. Believe me Selwyn when I tell you that you will wish you had never been born after I have finished with you today. So gentlemen, shall we move to the punishment room and get on with things as I have other matters to attend to beyond thrashing your backsides."

As ever the punishment room with its stark appearance and the Rigby Horse as the only piece of furniture, struck fear into the hearts of anyone summoned there and the two boys were no different. They both blanched noticeably as they saw what was in store for them. "Foster; step out of your shorts, mount the horse and present your naked arse for punishment. Come on boy look quick about it; over the horse; I haven't got all afternoon. Selwyn, kindly attach Foster's wrists and ankles to the horse with the straps. Now, Foster, if you are ready, I will proceed. I suggest you bite on this cork, for it will help, you bear the pain of the birch."

Patrick picked up one of the smaller birches and proceeded to give Foster's naked arse a truly thorough thrashing. By the time he had finished with the twelve strokes, the standard tariff laid down by Mr. Godber, Foster's arse was a bright red over its whole surface, with the earlier furrows of the cane standing out quite clearly. Patrick looked at his handiwork and thought to himself that here was a truly well birched arse: a result he himself could be proud of. Foster managed to maintain his composure and did not let out a sound. Patrick was impressed by the boy's self control. Here was a lad who had expressed his fear of corporal punishment, but now in the event, had accepted it without a murmur. At the end of the day, Foster had acquitted himself as befitted a true gentleman. He had admitted his errors and had accepted is punishment and now it was all over.